Sky of Stars
by WolfWarrioress
Summary: First in the Shooting the Gap series. A few months after Mercy Mission: when an illness breaks out on Aleen, a familiar clone battalion is once again sent in aid, this time partnered with a pacifist Jedi who aggravates the clones. WolffeXOC
1. Chapter 1

_**EDIT: 1/31/15:** I have re-uploaded this chapter in order to correct a few grammar and canonical errors. Also the rating of this story has been changed from the original M to T, as I feel the content doesn't need that high of a rating. _

_One of the big changes I made was to change the title Kieria wants to be called from "Commander" to "Master." When I first started this fic I had seen very little of _the Clone Wars_, and neglected the fact that "Commander" is the title the clones use for Padawans. And referring to both Kieria and Wolffe as Commander was confusing. So I decided to go with Master, since that's a normal Jedi title._

_One last note: This story is set about a year after the start of _the Clone Wars_._

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><p><em>Transcend political correctness and strive for human righteousness. –Anthony J. D'Angelo<em>

_Wisdom is knowing what to do next; virtue is doing it. –David Star Jordan_

**Chapter 1**

With the familiar droning hum unique to Republic dropships, a group of six dropped down through the sparse cloud cover, loosely arrayed in a wedge formation, like giant birds of prey honing in on a target. In the distance behind them, a triangular cruiser, steel gray and tipped in dark red, angled slowly towards the planet's dusky beige surface, it's single bridge tower sticking up like a proud flag, but it was not nearly as nimble as the dropships and would take nearly three times as long to reach the landing zone that would be their base of operations, giving the smaller ships, loaded with troops and equipment, plenty of time to secure the location.

They weren't really expecting trouble, and hence the loose formation and sauntering speed of the dropships, but nevertheless these were clone troopers, bred for war; and having lived in one for more than a year now, their training dictated their response to every situation: cautious and thorough.

Within a few minutes, the dropships slowed and hovered before dropping to the ground with practiced precision. The large doors on either side sprang open, and a collection of clone troopers poured out of each side. Despite the barren surroundings of rocks and dusts, they all had their weapons in their hands and raised to eye level, twisting this way and that as they surveyed the area.

Wearing the standard full body suit of armor patterned with green-gray stripes and lines and a kama of matching color, Commander Wolffe of the 104th division, or the "Wolfpack", stepped to the middle of the excitement and immediately began handing out his orders. During their last visit here, amid earthquake wreckage, he had thought the planet was in disarray, and he expected the Aleena should have straightened everything out and that the landscape would have settled a bit.

Now he realized that not a whole lot had changed. In the villages, the rocks had been cleared and buildings restored, but the rubble was only pushed to the outer limits of the little towns, and then left. Sure, it had only been a few months since their last visit, but the clones would never have been comfortable living in such dangerous disarray. He sent out two squads to secure a perimeter and set the rest to clearing ground and setting up their base of operations. Dust from the dropships clicked as it struck his helmet, and he held in a sigh. He remembered this planet, and not terribly fondly.

It bothered him that an entire ship had been diverted to this planet in crisis again; the clones were made for the battlefield and desperately needed there. But he would follow orders. His only consolation was that a Jedi was supposed to meet them here this time; while he certainly didn't mind commanding troops, it meant that he would have to deal with the local inhabitants less. Or so he hoped. And speaking of both…

The troops on patrol began reporting their finds. Wolffe heard the all clear and gave orders to lock down and finish setting up and prepare for the imminent arrival of the cruiser, and then one of his men—Sinker—shouted to get his attention. Wolffe turned and saw the other clone jerk his helmeted head to his right, directing his commander's eyes beyond him, and through the lightly swirling dust and the glare of the sharp sunlight on the rocks, he spotted a slender brown figure approaching, standing out amid the light colored landscape. Shapes ran and jumped around the person, clearly the local inhabitants. Wolffe steeled himself and walked forward to meet them, Sinker falling into step behind him.

The Aleena quieted when they saw the approached clones, although they continued chatting jovially and rapidly in their own language. Wolffe was surprised to realize that the Jedi was a human female, although he didn't show it as he reached up and removed his helmet. For some reason when he thought of Jedi, a sense of masculinity came with it, perhaps because he had not yet worked with a female Jedi? He cast it from his mind and assessed her.

From the neck down, she was draped in the typical brown cloak that all Jedi seemed to wear, and thus most of her physique was hidden from him, except for when the breeze tugged at the hem where a few Aleena weren't holding it and realized sturdy, dusty boots and leggings. Her hair was a natural shade, a dark blond with lighter streaks, and was coiled up into a tight, neat bun at the back of her head, save for a few shorter strands that covered her forehead and framed her face when not fluttering in the wind. She was nearly as tall as he was but not quite; he could tell that if he stood right beside her he would still be looking down at her, and she was very slim under that cloak, which Wolffe considered a good thing: his guess was that it marked athletic shape. He, and the other clones, snapped to attention.

"CC-3636, yes?" she asked, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the activity around them and the excited Aleena at her feet.

Wolffe nodded sharply. "Commander Wolffe of the 104th Division, General," he replied.

"I am Kieria Irrden," she introduced herself in turn. "But please, call me Master, not General." She waited for his acknowledging nod and then continued. "I've already been to the nearest village." He nodded, remembering hearing a report that a small star fighter had been parked there. "As you know, the situation is dire, whatever other impression these Aleena might give off." She glanced down at the natives at her feet and smiled as they jumped up and down upon attention being turned to them.

Sinker tensed stiffly as one scurried forward to hug his leg. "They are just excited to see us, and the prospect of the help we represent. They already have a hospital back there, and it's already rather full of patients." She looked back up at Wolffe, her smile fading. "As soon as your medics arrive, I would like to have them start their work. And we will need others in the dropships to head out to the next nearest villages and check on them. How long will that take?"

"Not long, Master Irrden," Wolffe answered. A shadow fell over them, and the small group looked up to see the looming form of the _Venator_-class cruiser bearing down on them, clanking and creaking metallically as it settled on its' landing struts. He turned back down to the Jedi, and then down lower, to where she knelt on the ground, and to his surprise, spoke the local language.

The cruiser had frightened the Aleena, and many of them were hiding under her cloak. Within a few moments, they brightened again, and most of them ran off to somewhere. The Jedi straightened again. "We'll get the medics and supplies unloaded immediately and start for the village. I assume you will lead the way?" He hid his hopefulness from his voice; if she kept the Aleen natives busy, it would be easier for his men to work.

"I probably should, yes," she commented absentmindedly, watching as the first clones, laden with supplies, started down the ramp. She frowned gently. "Commander, don't you think the hospital would be better set up closer to the village? There is more protection from the elements over there, with that slight cliff."

Wolffe hid a sigh, his hopes dissipating. "This is always how we set up, ma'am, with the hospital as close to the cruiser so we don't have to move the supplies as far. And it is safer from any local wildlife. The shelter itself protects from the elements."

The Jedi glanced back at him, as if searching his face, then she gave a short nod. "Well, alright then, I suppose those are valid points. But make sure you keep the supplies upwind of it. We don't want any contaminated food, or supplies." The clone gave another acknowledging nod, holding back his annoyance, certain that she would leave shortly.

"Ah, there are the medics," she said, although he could obviously see that for himself. "Well then, Commander, I had better go along and make sure that things at the village are set up properly. Notify me when the dropships are prepared to go out to the other villages. And when the hospital and other area are assembled." Without waiting for an answer, she turned away, then paused and turned back to him. "And when everything is unloaded as well. In fact, just notify me of any information at all. The lives of these people are at stake, and we don't need any break in communication to damage our effectiveness."

"Yes ma'am," Wolffe replied to her back as she walked away, standing rigidly at attention and saluting even though she couldn't see it.

Sinker came up next to him, removing his own helmet. "Well, she certainly is thorough," he remarked dryly as they watched her walk away, two or three Aleena still clutching her cloak hem.

Wolffe stifled another sigh as he watched her inspect the pile of goods a trooper was unloading and correct him on something that they could not hear. "I get the feeling that this is going to be a long trip," he commented, resigned. Then they turned and hurried about their duties.

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><p><em>Author's Note: Yes, I know I am supposed to be working on <em>Breaking and Entering_; that update is coming shortly. For now, enjoy this. Also, any opinions expressed in this story do not represent the actual feelings of myself or anyone I know. All of it is simply the character for the sake of the story. This is the first in a series of short stories and one-shots that I am calling _Shooting the Gap_, and I intend to keep it on the short side. Hence I have also cut the normal length of my chapters down. Reviews are loved and speed up updates and__ I am open to scene suggestions, __but note that flames will be tossed. This is for my own enjoyment. I have classes for improving my writing skills._


	2. Chapter 2

**_EDIT: 2/3/15:_**_ I have also re-uploaded this chapter, to fix a few grammar and canonical mistakes, as well as elaborated more on both Kieria's and Wolffe's first impressions of each other._

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><p><em>Quality means doing it right when no one is looking. –Henry Ford<em>

_Character is much easier kept than recovered. –Thomas Paine_

**Chapter 2**

Kieria walked back to the village, finding a meandering path through the dust and rocks. At her feet, only three of her original Aleena escort remained; the rest had gone on ahead of her when she had told them that medics would be coming soon. The rest were still chattering, but to themselves, and so Kieria was left to her own thoughts.

She knew that she had gained a reputation as "the Spineless", and that it was bound to put her at odds with the war-minded clone troopers. It wasn't that Kieria was not in support of fighting; the reputation had only spread because she had no interest in preventing it. In truth, Kieria was not averse to fighting—when it was absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, the Republic's recent actions had been to fight first and to talk later.

Unbeknownst to most people, she had actually gone before the Jedi Council and presented her reasons for taking a stand against fighting, although she still wanted to serve the Republic. After an hour of careful inspection, the Council had agreed not to ask her to join in battle unless the lives of innocents were at stake. And so for the course of the war she had been sent on humanitarian or relief missions such as this, or to answer the calls that the Jedi had before the war. Someone had to do it, after all. She would have preferred if a clone trooper battalion had not been sent with her, and a Republic relief team had, but all of the latter were occupied, and the battalion was the closest and the best equipped to assist the fastest.

Clones. Kieria did not trust clones; she had been against their use since the beginning. How had the Republic filed an order for a clone army without the Jedi Council knowing about it? The whole situation just felt _wrong_ to her. Some other Jedi had even agreed with her, but all they could do was go along with the use of the army, since they needed one immediately to protect the Republic. Kieria did not begrudge the Council that; their hand had been forced into using the clones, and she understood wanting to protect the Republic. But the fact was, every world the war reached was only torn apart and the lives of the citizens threatened.

But Kieria's resentment against the clones went deeper than that. She abhorred the idea of cloning; creating thousands of identical individuals, copies of one single man, was completely against the natural way of things, and she _could_ not support it. Cloning had been around before the Clone Wars, for quite some time, to provide a workforce for various corporations, and the idea of creating _expendable _life was incredibly repulsive to someone who valued life as much as Kieria did. Of course, it wasn't the clones' fault; they could not help the way they had been created, but being in a roomful of identical faces made her feel sick, and she mentally flinched away from any sort of feeling coming from them through the Force, unwilling to open herself. She didn't know how other Jedi like Kenobi or Secura could stand to work with them nearly daily. She planned to spend most of her time with the thankfully natural and unique Aleena and do her best to get things here fixed quickly and send the clones back on their way.

In addition, Kieria simply could not trust that the clones knew what they were doing. They had barely been alive enough years to be called adults, their training was largely flash-training and simulations, not actual experience on the battlefield, and it was a system designed to create a vast amount in little time. In her experience, most such systems were heavily flawed, and she simply couldn't shake the feeling that the clones were not as well prepared and outfitted as they were extravagantly proclaimed to be. Time would tell, she supposed. At least they followed orders.

The village came into sight up ahead, and the last few Aleen natives tugged on her cloak and then left her, running on ahead. Kieria watched them go with a smile and a few words promising to follow them in a moment, but she did not pause and turned aside, stepping over uneven ground to the pile of rocks which sheltered her fighter behind them. The fighter was standard Jedi fare, and colored a dark blue that unfortunately made it stand out on this planet. It was not terribly beaten, but a few scratches and dents did decorate the hull—from a _previous _pilot. Kieria was fairly decent at piloting the ships, having the Force to rely on, but she rarely let herself get into situations where scratches or dents were even possible.

Approaching, Kieria remotely raised the cockpit and climbed up on the wing, and then inside, slipping her cloak off of her head in the process. She stored the robe behind her seat; in the heat of this desert planet, she wasn't going to need it again for a while, and she would be checking the ship every few hours for messages from the Council. Then she set about locking down her starfighter, fully powering everything down, along with locking the controls and communication system, before she climbed back out, toggling the cockpit lock on her way out. Confident that the ship was secure, she bounded off the wing and started off back to the village.

XXXXX

In the bustle of unloading supplies and setting up their base of operations, as well as organizing the flights to other villages and medics moving between camps and beginning to diagnose their patients, the afternoon waned rapidly and dusk fell. Quickly, the final touches on the camp were made for the night, including the inclusion of glow lamps every few meters along both the perimeter and scattered throughout the camp, so that the workers would be able to see what they were doing.

Commander Wolffe, his helmet long since forgotten on a table—although he did know _which_ table, and he had moved it from place to place with him—stood at the base of the cruiser's landing ramp, arms crossed and looking over the camp with pride in his troops. Despite their suits, designed to regulate their body temperatures, the sweltering afternoon had taken a toll on them. He had officially ordered them to stop for the day and break for food and rest, and a steady, if scraggly, line of helmetless, sweaty clones, although in good spirits, was walking up the ramp, intent on their shipboard barracks.

An outline different from the clones caught his attention as soon as it moved into his field of vision, and his eyes immediately snapped in that direction, trained as he was to perceive threats. But then Wolffe blinked, his eyes staying on the figure in a way that had nothing to do with his training. He had not seen her since she had left for the village late that morning.

Sometime between then and now, the Jedi had removed her cloak, and he found her costume underneath to be a much more pleasing sight than the standard, formless Jedi robe. As he expected, her slender form was indeed full of athletic muscle that told him no matter how Spineless she might be thought, she did in fact know how to fight.

But she had also obviously come prepared for the environment: while she wore trousers, they were of a light-weight, breathable material, her boots were flexible but well-made, and her top half was covered—actually, most of it was _uncovered_—by a sturdy top held up only with rather thin straps over her shoulders, leaving her arms, a good portion of her chest, and her midriff down to her hips bare. It was conducive to working on such an arid planet, as well as allowing for freedom of movement, and she was in no danger of heatstroke, and on those accounts Wolffe had to agree with the sense of wearing it, although he still would have preferred it if she was better protected with armor.

But his eyes lingered beyond his tactical assessment of his superior. While the breasts were not overly large, they remained prominent and had a curve that just _begged_ the eye to follow it—especially clone eyes that had seldom seen a female figure. That curve also flowed very nicely into the flatness of her stomach, and the curve under her rib cage and down to her hips was a supple bend that unconsciously made him curl his fingers as if tracing it. Her hips were slender but firm, not any wider than her shoulders, which some human men might have disapproved of; but Wolffe found the neat evenness of her body to be even more attractive.

The sound of her boots on the stone snapped Wolffe out of his reverie and to attention. He felt his ears and neck flush and hoped the dim lighting was enough to hide any color that might have spread to his face as he realized _exactly_ what he had been thinking, and he made a mental note to keep a close eye on his men and make sure they did not get distracted from their jobs; over her shoulder he could already see a few of them watching her as they walked up the ramp.

The Jedi really wasn't doing anything to encourage them; in fact the top of her shirt stopped at a good height and did not show off much cleavage at all, but the fact remained that Jedi were in good physical shape, and her clothing did nothing to hide it. It was perfectly suitable and favorable for the environment, almost picked out as if the owner had no regard for her appearance to others, or cared about their opinions, and that relaxed pose was almost as attractive as her body.

"Good evening, Gen-Master Irrden," Wolffe said, relieved when his voice sounded just as steady and gruff as normal, despite his almost slip of the tongue. "How are things in the village?"

Kieria gave him a nod as she stopped next to him, crossing her own arms in a way that unconsciously mirrored the clone commander and subtly pressed her breasts up; but fortunately she was not looking at Wolffe and so the quick glance he couldn't resist went unnoticed. He mentally berated himself; he had a job to do and the last thing he should be doing was day dreaming about pretty girls, much less one who was his kriffing _superior!_

"The medics have identified the sickest of the Aleena and are quarantining all of them, as well as making sure the rest of their food supplies haven't been contaminated," Kieria said, and it took him a moment to remember the question he had asked. "I am glad to see the camp is organized." Her tone implied that she had not expected it to be, but Wolffe decided to ignore it. "But we'll have lots to do tomorrow as well," she continued, suddenly serious. "I would like to get a full report from the medics that journeyed to other villages, Commander. We must fully assess the situation if we are to properly help the Aleena."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Wolffe said after a pause, "my men have been extensively trained in their duties, and I have full confidence that they have assessed the statuses of the other settlements and made the best decision in each case." He himself was not offended; that wasn't in a clones' nature, but he _did_ feel the need to defend his men. The Jedi turned to him fully, a slight frown her face.

"I am glad you have such trust in your troopers, Commander, but they _are_ only clones, and better suited for battle than this sort of work," she said dryly; Wolffe had to agree but didn't voice his thoughts. "That is why I am here: to make sure things get done right this time."

Wolffe's one good eye narrowed infinitesimally. "'This time', Master?" he repeated, asking for clarification.

Kieria nodded once. "The possibility exists, however you might deny it, Commander, that your troops were not as efficient on your last visit as you seem to claim and perhaps overlooked some detail that has led to this current outbreak of illness," she said, brutally truthfully. "Look, Commander, I know the Republic is filled with reports of the effectiveness of clones on the battlefield, but I fear I do not abide by it. Whatever you may claim, you are only clones, and a single defect in the system can ruin the entire process," she said, looking him firmly in the eye, a strange haunting reserve and determination residing there that surprised him.

"Further, Commander, you were all made to be expendable, and therefore your training is never going to be as complete as mine," she continued. "So if you don't mind, please, just let me handle everything. You are here as a workforce only. I will want a full report from those medics at daybreak." She gave him a mild bow and turned to follow the last few stragglers up the ramp and into the cruiser, leaving Wolffe watching her back, one hand balled into a fist, not quite sure what to make of her speech.

He turned, picking up his helmet and heading off to organize the perimeter patrols for the evening, still pondering the Jedi's speech. She truly seemed to not trust him or his men. Wolffe's feelings were far from hurt; he had worked with Jedi who were wary of them before and had even been out rightly hated by some natives on other planets. Unfortunately, it would certainly complicate this mission and his relationship with her, and could quickly prove to be frustrating. Clones were trained to be autonomous; someone constantly micromanaging them was something that had led to trouble in the past.

But he was having difficulties analyzing Irrden's specific views on the matter. She had held no anger when she had delivered her speech to him, or any emotions at all really, except perhaps pity, which was the only thing that rankled his pride and caused his guard to rise. He would just have to do his best to keep her out of the business of the clones and interact with her only whenever necessary.

At least her words also had the fortunate side effect of swiftly shutting down anymore inappropriate thoughts. He couldn't deny that she had a pretty face, but he decided the more distance there was between them, the better.


	3. Chapter 3

**_EDIT: 2/3/15:_**_ I have also re-uploaded this chapter, with some significant scene changes. As I started to work on the sequel, I realized that for it to work out as I wanted, I needed to add a few more scenes to this story. I hope anyone who takes the time to reread enjoys the additions!_

_AN: I would LOVE reviews on this chapter even though it's the last one; I tried so hard to keep them in character and I really, truly, want to hear if I accomplished that or not. Thanks!_

_Disclaimer: (Realized I missed this on the first two chapters. Oops.) I do not own _Star Wars: the Clone Wars_ or Commander Wolffe. This fanfic is for my own amusement (and hopefully for that of some of you) and nothing else._

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><p><em>Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes. -Oscar Wilde<em>

_Our understanding is correlative to our perception. –Robert Delaunay_

_Anger and intolerance are the enemies of correct understanding. __–Mahatma Gandhi_

**Chapter 3**

Over the next week, things progressed quickly. Before long, the hospital was filled with sick Aleena, their gray skin looking even more unhealthy than normal, and more were being flown in on the larties from the outlying villages almost every hour. Fortunately, they took up less space than most races of the galaxy.

Wolffe and his men had settled into their routine. In fact, they had become a bit relaxed, though they still worked hard. The clones had taken to only wearing essential pieces of armor during the day, setting their helmets aside completely, due to the heat. Wolffe knew for a fact that several of them had taken to sneaking out of their shipboard barracks to sleep under the stars at night. Bred and born for war, it was rare they occupied a planet where they could let their guard down. He trusted his men and their judgment, and as long as they were ready to work the next morning, he didn't say anything about it. He did not know if the Jedi cared about their more relaxed habits, but she had not yet commented on it, and he wasn't going to mention it.

He had half a mind to join them, a few times. While this dusty planet was intolerable in many regards, the breezy, cool evenings were more than bearable, especially compared to the recycled ship's air, and the arid planet had a clear sky that glittered with thousands of stars in a way that could never be seen on a more civilized, populated planet full of lights. The local inhabitants still threatened to drive the clones crazy with their inane chattering and antics, especially after their obsession with the Jedi had worn off and they had become more curious of the clones.

In fact, a few of the Aleena were apparently joining the clones outdoors at night; some had muttered about waking up to find the little creatures snuggled up to them, and they weren't sure what to make of it. Kieria remained their favorite person, however, and was escorted by at least a dozen wherever she went. She had taken to sleeping in the village itself, wrapped only in her cloak. Or so he gathered, when he didn't see her return to the ship when the sun set.

The Jedi worked hard, and she certainly was very dedicated to helping the Aleena. She did not slack from her work or leave the clone workforce to do all of the hard labor, and on those counts Wolffe respected her. Somehow she managed to be everywhere at once, finding the sickest of the Aleena to treat while at the same time researching the origins of the sickness, and this was a boon when it came to dealing with the Aleena—Wolffe had wondered why no translator droid was sent with them this time, and the Jedi's linguistic skills proved the reason.

But she continued to double check the work of his men and to not trust them, even going as far as asking if his men had eaten and slept properly, and several times it had led to conflicting orders that had dampened their efficiency, and _that_ Wolffe could not support or condone. In fact, as the days wore on, he found it increasingly frustrating, to the point where several times he had to remind himself that she was his superior officer and he had to take deep breaths to control his temper. Beautiful or not, whenever he saw the Jedi start towards him, he steeled himself for another confrontation.

He had no choice but to grit his teeth and continue with the mission and hope that it ended soon, and concentrate on things like tactics and reports.

XXXXX

Fortunately, it did end soon.

Through their quick work, and a bit of luck, the clones had managed to get many of the sick isolated into one place, and hence largely stop more from getting infected. And after a week of tests and experiments, the medical staff found a cure and treatment plan that worked, and quickly starting treating not only the sick, but vaccinating the healthy. A few more clusters of ill Aleena appeared here and there, but for most the crisis was over. A third week was spent treating the food and water supplies and making sure that there was plenty of healthy food growing, and that all the contaminated areas had been cleansed. Kieria was very thorough, and in that respect Wolffe grudgingly admired her.

After only three weeks on the planet, life for the Aleena was mostly returned to normal. The tiny humanoids were ecstatic; if the clones had thought the little creatures to be energetic when they arrived, it was nothing compared to them now. No one could say that the Aleena were not grateful for the Republic's help, as they quickly began a tradition of rushing to every trooper they saw and hugging their legs, greatly impeding progress.

The day before they were to leave, having reported on the situation back to Coruscant and in the beginning stages of packing up the equipment, Kieria came to him. The afternoon sun was hot, but under the tent covering the tables that made up the command center, the temperature was bearable. The Jedi Knight came slowly into the shade, her footsteps slow to dodge the multitude of Aleena bouncing around her, chittering loudly. The small smile at their antics stayed on her lips as she lifted her gaze to Wolffe, already standing at attention, and for a brief moment he dared consider that she might actually be smiling at him, but then it faded.

"Master Irrden," he said briskly in greeting when she stopped beside him, shifting his feet. As a Jedi Knight, she ought to be called a General, despite her wishes, and it truly irked him to address her incorrectly. "Master" was not a rank the clones were accustomed to. But it was just one more thing he had cast aside in an effort to get along with her.

"CC-3636," Kieria returned. "The Aleena have informed me that they would like to thank us for our help by honoring us with a feast. With their supplies as dwindled as they are, I have informed them that they cannot possibly feed all of us, and they have agreed that it shall be the leaders who attend, to represent everyone. Namely, you and myself," she told him, and it sounded quite firmly like an order.

But Wolffe was taken aback, and very much _not_ willing to attend. "With all due respect, Master Irrden, I do not believe my presence is required. And I'm hardly trained for such things. I ought to continue overseeing our exit."

Her lips twisted down in a frown, eyebrows drawing together. "This success would not have been possible without the manpower of the clones," she told him, surprising him with what could be a compliment, although from her he was never sure. "It would be improper for you to be absent," she continued briskly. "Your second in command is perfectly competent, you keep telling me. Besides, the Aleena are insistent that more than one of us be there. They don't have the supplies to feed the entire company, so I talked them into just the two of us, but they will be quite upset if I try and excuse you from coming."

Beaten and not willing to argue, Wolffe nodded his head in a simple bow and resigned himself to his fate. "As you wish, Master Irrden."

XXXXX

That evening, Wolffe endured a good-natured ribbing from his men behind his back as he followed two steps behind the Jedi, helmet under one arm, walking from their base near the ramp of the ship into the center of the Aleena village. He didn't bother to turn around and reprimand them for the snickering and a few whistles; they had worked hard and were blowing off steam now that the mission was almost complete. Kieria didn't seem to notice and he didn't want to draw her attention to it.

The Aleena enjoyed the feast far more than the Jedi or the Clone Commander, for whom it was more of a snack. A low stone table was loaded with food piled higher than some of the Aleena were tall, which they greedily ate. Idly he wondered if the little creatures weren't being too enthusiastic, and if the Republic would have to return with more relief supplies in a few weeks, but that wasn't his problem. He assumed Irrden had thought of that, as thorough as she had proved to be. Seated on the ground, with the table still above their knees, Wolffe was decidedly cramped, and much too close to eye level with the Aleena for his comfort, but Kieria had a soft smile on her face the whole evening that Wolffe was envious of. Was keeping a polite mask pasted on your face part of Jedi training? He wished he could hide in his helmet but the Jedi had already berated him for wearing it when she'd come to collect him.

When it was stuffed in his gloved hand, the clone tried some pieces of native fruit, but he felt very out of place, sitting on the ground in full armor, one knee propped up to rest his elbow on, helmet discarded beside him. Whenever Master Irrden glanced at him, as if making sure he was minding his manners, he gave a tense smile that stretched the scar on his cheek, but really, he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. She was sitting beside him serenely, eating what was offered, and he tried to emulate her.

Then, surprisingly, the Aleena suddenly quieted. Wolffe sat up straighter as the Jedi did, realizing the Aleena king—the same fellow he recognized from his last trip here, although he didn't remember his name—had stood up on the tallest place on the table and was motioning to something, saying some rapid words. Kieria leaned towards him, just as he glanced at her, hoping for a translation. "They wish to give us a toast," she murmured quietly to him, then smiled again as two Aleena came up, one to each of them, carrying cups with a neon blue liquid splashing over the rims. Following Kieria, he took his and tried to act like he knew what the king was saying, watching attentively. The Jedi Knight lifted her cup to her lips and sipped curiously, before nodding to herself and taking a longer swallow. She turned her head to look at him and raised an eyebrow and Wolffe realized he was supposed to be drinking too. He quickly followed suit, easily draining half of the cup in one swallow, only then registering the very sweet, cloying taste and the way it tingled in his mouth like bubbles. He grimaced but the Aleena were too busy cheering again to take much notice. He braced himself and finished the rest of the drink and then returned the cup to the table. And from that point on it seemed that their roles had been fulfilled, as the Aleena paid less attention to them and settled into eating.

A few minutes later, Kieria surprised him by suddenly rolling smoothly to her feet and slinking away from the table. He watched, but their hosts didn't seem to notice, absorbed in each other and their food. Suddenly feeling out of place and lacking any desire to stay by himself, Wolffe got up and followed her. He stumbled slightly over his helmet as he climbed to his feet, the world suddenly spinning a little bit, but he shook his head and the feeling passed. Snagging his helmet with one hand and turning away from the fires, he followed Kieria.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well, I can finally mark it as complete. It's a little less lackluster than I planned, but it's done. I have a few ideas for the sequel, <em>Into the Dark_, that I want to get to, so look for that to be posted hopefully somewhat soon, but as for this one, I think we're done here._

_**EDIT: 2/3/15:** Apparently we weren't quite done. I picked this up again after a bit of a hiatus, and I just really wanted to get it done. But after posting it, and doing some work on the sequel, I felt like something was missing, so it has been updated. It feels a bit more complete, now. There will be one more chapter, posted shortly, to finally end this fic._


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Please note that I have re-uploaded all of the previous chapters before you read this one, although it was mostly for canon errors, so if you jump into this one now, you probably won't be missing too much, but if you want to catch all the little details, I suggest at least rereading chapter 3. _

_Alright, here it is, finally, the end. Although it's not really over, is it? I'm very eager to work on the sequel and further explore their feelings! Any reviews are most welcome; I feel like I'm still trying to get the hang of writing Wolffe. If you notice any seemingly unanswered questions, rest assured everything will be explained in the sequel._

* * *

><p><em>A rejection is nothing more than a necessary step in the pursuit of success. –Bo Bennett<em>

_Endurance is patience concentrated. -Thomas Carlyle_

**Chapter 4**

Following the Jedi, Wolffe suddenly realized this evening didn't feel as cool as the previous ones had felt, even though the sun had set. In fact, he was very abruptly feeling very, very hot in his suit, even sans bucket, and when he licked his lips his tongue was thick. Still, his orders were to protect the Jedi. Something about the look he'd seen on her face was bothering him, and he was used to ignoring discomfort, so he doggedly followed her. The clone found her on the very edge of the firelight, on a rise, silhouetted against the stars. In the dark, he suddenly tripped over something, and realized she had dropped her cloak carelessly to the ground.

"Master Irrden?" he called out to the shape, the words sounding slightly slurred to his ears, but before he could apologize she turned to look back at him, and his breath caught. Something about the way the firelight and the night mixed cast her face into sharp relief, one side glowing orange and the other dark shadows, making her features all the more feminine and beautiful. Without her cloak to hide her, every inch of her slim figure was exposed, but for some reason he reacted to it much more strongly now. He tugged on his collar as he felt hot, and didn't even realize he had thrown his gloves and helmet aside. Wolffe took a few steps closer to her, his eyes following the curve of her waist, seen more sharply than ever now, with her long cloak cast aside, and again his fingertips tingled and curled, wanting to trace that curve more fiercely than ever.

The Commander caught himself, shaking his head. What was wrong with him? He had not occupied these thoughts since the first few days on this planet, carefully avoiding them. She was his commanding officer, and it was not a good thing to be involved in any way with one's CO. Besides, the woman didn't even _like_ clones, or him in general, he reminded himself, for some reason feeling that disappointment more intensely now.

"Commander," the Jedi said suddenly, drawing his attention back to her. She had turned to face him fully, and did he dare hope, her eyes were flicking up and down him with the same hungry look he knew he wore? Kieria came to stand much closer to him, so that he could fairly smell her: the dust on her clothes, lingering sweat from the day's work, and the sweet taste of the drink on her breath. Wolffe found himself looking down into her dark eyes, turned up to him and studying his face, seemingly seeing him as a man and not only a breathing machine for the first time, and his heart raced. Suddenly her palm was pressed against his cheek, her skin cool and soft on his, and of their own accord his hands reached out and finally traced her waist the way he had longed to, curling into the amazingly soft skin.

Wolffe swallowed hard as desire coursed through him more powerfully than ever before in his life. "Kieria," he caught himself saying, though he had only ever said her name in the privacy of his thoughts before, his tone both pleading and carrying a warning. But she didn't seem to hear the latter, because suddenly she stepped even closer, so that her body was pressed against his and she could lean up and press her mouth to his. The clone commander immediately leaned down, wrapping his arms tightly around her, not really realizing how the world swam around him. Something deep inside of him was blaring an alarm, but Wolffe hardly even heard it, and there was no part of him that wanted to pay attention to it. All of his focus was on the woman in his arms, tracing his calloused fingers across her skin and relishing every time he made her shiver, shaking himself when her fingers delved beneath his armor. He had never freed himself from his armor so quickly, or left it in such a haphazard pattern on the ground.

Almost without even realizing it, he was suddenly on the ground as well, pebbles digging into his unprotected knees and forearms, but Wolffe didn't even notice the pain. Kieria was beneath him, her dark hair framing her face, and his entire body was on fire, screaming for him to touch her and kiss her. "Wolffe," she whimpered breathlessly in his ear, finally calling him by his name, and his world shrank into a kaleidoscope of heat and colors and feelings, while the sky of stars whirled overhead.

XXXXX

Wolffe woke to the uncomfortable sensation of rocks poking into his bare skin, and the clone blinked for a moment, confused. Instead of his quarters, the brown, dusty landscape of Aleen stretched out in front of his vision. The Commander went to sit up and grimaced, discovering he was very stiff, and the arm he had lain on was full of pins and needles as circulation returned to it. As he pushed himself up, Wolffe felt something move and he glanced down to discover that the lower half bodysuit was half-draped over him, as though someone had tried to cover him for modesty's sake, though he didn't recall taking it off. From his right there was movement and his brown eyes snapped that way to find Kieria seated on the ground a few feet away from him, hand dropping from brushing a lock of hair back behind her ear. Her hair was tangled and there were smudges of dirt on her face. She wore her cloak pulled closely around her body, and she was watching him with an unreadable look.

Right then, the night before came back to him, and Wolffe sucked a sharp breath in through his nose as he realized what they'd done. Recalling the hungry look in her eyes when she'd looked at him and the way she had embraced him was enough to get his heart racing again, but Wolffe was no fool. Now he could see even more clearly how foggy his mind had been the night before; he still felt an ache behind his eyes that was reminiscent of the one time he'd tried liquor. A fast thinker, thanks to his genes, the commander easily remembered the drink the Aleena had given them and connected the dots.

Apparently Jedi weren't as incorrigible as everyone thought.

He relished the memory, and there was no doubt that he had enjoyed himself, but now he was sure he was about to be berated, and he braced himself, remembering his earlier conclusion that the more distance there was between them, the better.

The clone looked away from her and cleared his throat. "Irrden," he greeted gruffly, and quickly set to pulling his bodysuit on. She was silent the whole time, watching as he climbed to his feet and took in the sight of his armor tossed messily all around him. As he collected his vambraces and started securing them, she finally uncoiled from her position and slowly stood up herself, but he didn't miss her wince of pain, and realized that as she had been below him, he had probably ground her back sharply into the gritty ground. Wolffe winced himself as realized how scraped his own knees and arms were. "Master-" he said again, this time more confidently, intent on relaying his apologies, but she interrupted him.

"We should not have done that," she said quickly, and he realized her hands were shaking as she brushed off her cloak. "_I_ should not have done that." She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away, as if it pained her to look at him—or as if she were trying to hide her own feelings from him. Wolffe continued collecting his armor, averting his eyes since that's what she seemed to want. "I suspect that there were some very interesting properties in that drink last night," Kieria continued a moment later, folding her hands together under her cloak. Then she steeled herself and lifted her gaze to his again.

"I...apologize. I ought to have known better, but the Force..." the woman raised her hands again and gestured emptily before her, but Wolffe was too stunned with the realization that a _Jedi,_ much less one he had thought didn't even see him as a sentient, was apologizing to _him_ to take much notice. "As such, I think we should agree that this...rendezvous did not occur, as we were not ourselves and cannot be held responsible for our actions," she said in a manner that suggested she had been preparing that speech for a while. Kieria paused, as if hovering on the edge of saying something else, but then she only looked at him, awaiting a reply.

Wolffe knew nothing else to do except nod. "As you wish, Master Irrden," he said sharply. For the first time, she relaxed, her eyes falling shut.

"Alright then. I will leave you to gather your things and return to the ship. I'm sure there's still much to do before we leave," she said crisply, and he felt a breeze as she moved past him to head back to the cruiser. A few minutes later, all of his armor secured back in place, he followed in her tracks.

XXXXX

It took the clones less than a day to collect all their equipment, store it safely for transport, and then load everything back onto the cruiser. Kieria remained behind while the huge ship lifted off, insisting on staying longer to ensure none of the tiny locals were accidentally harmed by such a huge craft. Only once the ship was well into the atmosphere did she say her own goodbyes—and pry a few tiny hands off of her—and retrieve her star fighter, returning to the transport just before it made the jump to hyperspace.

Commander Wolffe was still in the command center when she entered, once again draped in her Jedi cloak now that they were in the coldness of space. He glanced up at her, but quickly flicked his gaze away, back down to the datapad that he was busily entering data into, hoping she would not wish to speak to him again. He had nothing else to say to her, still trying to figure out exactly what had transpired between them and how to react to it. Between walking a tightrope line between his men and the Aleena, and walking a tightrope line with the Jedi, this mission had tired him, despite it not even involving a battle. Wolffe was tired, the cuts on his forearms still sore, and he didn't know if he had anymore verbal fencing in him right now. He had done his duty and held his emotions in check to deal with the Jedi for the sake of the mission. Now that it was over he was looking forward to getting away from her. Dealing with Master Plo Koon was much simpler. And as soon as he submitted his report, he was returning to his quarters to get clean and sleep. A clone might be trained to last months without basic supplies, but that didn't mean he liked it.

But luck was not with him at the moment it seemed, because Kieria spotted him and changed her path to come straight to him. Wolffe braced himself and willed the mask that he'd been wearing around her for the past three weeks to harden back into place just one more time. He looked up with an expression of curious interest when she addressed him.

"CC-3636," Kieria greeted him briskly, stopping beside the holoprojection table, and he couldn't help but remember when she'd murmured his name in his ear. Though he blocked out the memory immediately, it still brought back pleasant feelings. "Before I departed, I felt it necessary to tell you that your troops performed very admirably over the last few weeks," she shocked him by saying, because she had until now never said a nice thing about clones. He blinked once in surprise, unsure of how to respond. "You, as well, performed admirably, Commander," she added more quietly, almost as an afterthought, farther surprising him by using his title and not simply his clone identification number. It wasn't as good as his nickname, but it was a start.

Seeing her waiting for acknowledgement, he gave a brisk nod. "We're always happy to serve, Master Irrden," he responded, as expected of a clone. Then the Jedi turned on her heel and strode away, and his life went back to normal.

* * *

><p><em>If you're interested in a potential "song track" for this story, might I suggest "A Sky Full of Stars", by Coldplay? While the title of this fic is not inspired by the song quoted below, I nevertheless feel that the song relates to the fic, and listening to it helped me while I wrote it, so I wanted to include it:<em>

_"'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars_  
><em>I'm gonna give you my heart<em>  
><em>'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars<em>  
><em>'Cause you light up the path<em>_  
><em>_I don't care, go on and tear me apart__  
><em>_I don't care if you do__  
><em>_'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars__  
><em>_I think I saw you__  
><em>_'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars__  
><em>_I want to die in your arms, arms_  
><em>'Cause you get lighter the more it gets dark<em>  
><em>I'm going to give you my heart<em>  
><em>And I don't care, go on and tear me apart<em>  
><em>And I don't care if you do<em>  
><em>'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars<em>  
><em>I think I see you<br>I think I see you_  
><em>Because you're a sky, you're a sky full of stars<em>  
><em>Such a heavenly view<em>  
><em>You're such a heavenly view<br>__–Coldplay, "A Sky Full of Stars"_

_Thank you for reading, and sticking through all the edits to reach the end._


End file.
